The Goddess, The Scroll & The Immortal
by Medie
Summary: Quasi-Crossover with Hercules. The Patron Goddess of the Game pays a visit to Methos, with a small request


Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters of Highlander or Hercules, nor do I  
own the concepts of either show, I'm just borrowing them for awhile. Losira is mine though.  
Believe me, you wouldn't want her. WAYYYY too high maintenance.   
  
Category: Crossover, Humor  
  
Keywords: Methos, Xover, OC, humor   
  
Spoilers: None that I can think of  
  
The Goddess, The Scroll & The Immortal  
by M  
------------  
  
Paris, France   
Adam Pierson (a.k.a Methos)'s apartment   
3:25 A.M.   
  
"Meeettthooosss....Oh, Methos...wakey, wakey." The soft voice purred into the eldest Immortal's  
ear gently, intruding calmly into his dreams.   
  
Mumbling something in Sumerian, or at least something that *sounded* Sumerian, Methos rolled   
over - away from the voice and toward the nice comfy pillow next to his head.   
  
There was a sigh of annoyance then, for a brief moment, nothing at all. That nothingness was   
soon shattered by a flash of lightening, and the sound of a thundering voice.   
  
"METHOS!!"   
  
That got the Immortal's attention as he bolted up right in bed, looking around wildly until he   
spotted the beautiful woman sitting in his favourite chair as if she owned it.   
  
"Much better." The intruder announced in a more sultry voice. "You never were an easy one to   
wake up, were you?"   
  
"Losira..." Rubbing one eye, Methos blinked to be sure she was really there then, echoing   
something MacLeod had once said to him, questioned. "So, what brings the patron goddess of the   
Game to me?"   
  
Smiling, the goddess disappeared in a burst of energy and reappeared alongside him - draped out  
on the bed in lingerie. "Well, aside from the obvious...I have a small request."   
  
Keeping his mind on business, and *off* Losira's rather considerable assets, the ancient Immortal  
frowned at her. "Last time you had a *small* request, I nearly got buried by lava!"   
  
Gesturing with a hand, as if waving the memory off, the Greek goddess's expression was impish.  
"I took care of it..."   
  
"AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND!" He thundered back, still perfectly able to recall the heat coming  
off the lava as it raced toward him.   
  
"Time - such a mercurial thing, I always did have a problem counting seconds...silly little   
things." Losira said with a small pout. "And this time there's no danger anyway...well, not really."   
  
"Not really?" Reaching out, he tapped her nose. "Explain not really."   
  
"Well, you see, it's the Watchers: They have something of mine and it's a something that I want  
back." The dark haired goddess offered with a smile, trailing a finger down his bare chest.   
"And I thought you might be so kind enough as to get it back for me."   
  
"Why don't you just teleport in, or whatever the hell it is you do, and get it yourself?" Methos   
asked with a raised eyebrow, brushing her hand away.   
  
Pouting again, Losira disappeared and reappeared across the room in a tight leather outfit - her  
favourite. "Well, after you and Amanda went and tried to steal the Methuselah Stone, they've   
improved security a wee bit. Well a lot actually, and I can't take the risk of being spotted -  
besides, why should I take the risk of discovery when I've got my own pet Watcher who can go in   
and get it for me."   
  
"I am *not* your pet." Methos groused, making the goddess laugh.   
  
"Oh no?" She arched an eyebrow. "Who got you away from Kronos and your so-called *brothers*? As   
I recall, you promised me you'd do *anything* to repay me for it - and this is it. Very simple   
task all things considered."   
  
Flopping back on his bed, the ancient man exhaled heavily. "That was in the bloody bronze age!!!"   
  
Losira smirked at him as she sampled his scotch. "I'm a goddess, we have *long* memories."   
  
Sighing, Methos looked at her. "So what is it they have?"   
  
"A scroll." The tall woman admitted with a shrug.   
  
"A *scroll*?!" Methos's jaw dropped and, after several moments, he began to laugh. "You want me   
to steal a *scroll*?!"   
  
"It's not just any scroll!" Losira glared at him, lightening flickering in her eyes - reminding   
Methos he wasn't dealing with any run-of-the-mill Immortal. Losira was a goddess who could turn   
him into a memory with a snap of her fingers. When he nodded at her to continue, she did so.   
"It, uh, details an argument I had with my nephew - Ares."   
  
"Ares!" Looking concerned, he got out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt. "He's not going to be   
popping up here is he?"   
  
"No - he wouldn't risk getting on my bad side, besides this is an Immortal problem and therefore   
not in his realm of authority." Losira frowned. "It is imperative that you get that scroll back,   
it talks about a few details of the Game that I'd rather not fall into the Watcher's hands -   
namely my own existence! They have their preconceived notions about the Game and its early   
origins and I'd like for them to keep them thank you very much!"   
  
"Who wrote the bloody thing to begin with?" The eldest Immortal groused, pulling on a pair of   
jeans.   
  
With a snap of Losira's fingers, a bottle of beer appeared in both her hand and his. " She did.  
The little one - Gabrielle." Taking a sip of her drink, the goddess sighed. "She and the other   
one were the reason for the fight after all."   
  
Olympus   
Approximately 100 B.C.   
  
Losira, patron goddess of the Game, walked into her throne room and over to the reflecting pool   
that allowed her to observe the goings on upon Earth. Not the Game, that she was always aware of,  
just the ever day goings on, sometimes she even peeked in at the temples devoted to her, just to  
see what was up.   
  
Resting a hand on the stone pedestal, the goddess waved the other hand over the water and it   
rippled - randomly searching for anything that would interest her. What formed before her was  
the image of a woman, in a Greek temple dedicated to Losira herself, praying earnestly.   
  
Concern on her eternally youthful face, the goddess dissolved into the air...   
  
And reformed in the temple before the penitent woman. "What is it, little one?"   
  
The woman stared in shock then, realizing whose presence she was in, dropped to her knees.   
"Goddess, I beg your assistance for my daughter and her friend...they are gravely troubled."   
  
  
Present Day   
  
"You didn't..." Methos trailed off in shock, staring at the goddess with a stunned look on his   
face.   
  
"Sorry, did." Losira popped a nut into her mouth and shrugged. "She knew that asking for my help   
didn't guarantee everything would be hunky dory...it just guaranteed they'd no longer be subject  
to my nephew's pestering."   
  
But...to just arbitrarily yank them into the Game?"   
  
The Olympian shrugged. "When have I ever asked permission first? Most of the time I leave it to   
the Fates...only occasionally do I personally pull people into the game, and I can quite honestly  
say this was the only time I was ever *asked* to do so."   
  
  
Greece   
Approximately 100 B.C.   
  
Losira, naturally, found the two women with easy seconds after agreeing to the woman's request.  
After all, no time like the present to take care of such things.   
  
When she appeared in their camp she found them sleeping on either side of a dying fire and a   
wave of her hand assured they would not wake during the process. She started with the blonde -   
standing over her, Losira withdrew a minuscule amount of her own power - forming it onto a ball  
of lightening over her palm - then crouched down next to the sleeping woman. Blowing gently on   
the lightening, the goddess sent it spreading out over the blonde's body where it settled in,   
altering the mortal's form forever - turning to her dark-haired companion, Losira repeated the  
process before rising and brushing a few wrinkles from her gown before lifting a hand to adjust  
her headpiece and smiling in satisfaction.   
  
Her smile swiftly turned to an expression of annoyance when her nephew, and not her favourite   
one, appeared before her with fiery rage in his eyes.   
  
"What in Hades do you think you're doing?!" He thundered without concern as to waking the   
sleeping woman.   
  
"Oh be quiet Ares, last thing we need is for you to wake up Greece with another of your temper   
tantrums!" Losira sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "And for your information, I was   
answering the request of a woman who visited one of my temples."   
  
"Who would ask you to grant Xena and Gabrielle your brand of Immortality?!" He shook his head  
emphatically at that, sending his earring swinging wildly.   
  
"The request was made by Xena's mother - it was selfless and from the heart. To be honest,   
nephew, I agreed with her reasons." Unintimidated by her nephew's presence, the goddess lifted   
her chin and glared back at him. "You've become entirely too caught up with that woman. " There  
was a curt nod in Xena's direction. "Now, you have very little purpose, or excuse, to involve   
yourself in her life."   
  
"That's not fair!" Ares protested, a hint of immaturity slipping into his voice. "They weren't   
meant to be in the Game!"   
  
"You know full well I may choose whomever I wish to be participants in the Game. *Whomever* I   
choose." Losira gestured around them. "There's a world full of mortals for you to pester! Go   
find a few to play with - these two are now off-limits to your meddling."   
  
"I don't want anyone else! I want *her*!"   
  
"Suffer. My decision is final." Turning, she repared to return to her home only to be prevented  
by Ares.   
  
"You can't do this - I'm telling Dad!" The god of war, in great contrast to his fearsome   
reputation, stuck out his lower lip slightly in a childish pout.   
  
Looking over her shoulder at her nephew, the Goddesss laughed merrily. "Oh, and what do you   
think Zeus will do? You forget nephew, I was the Goddess of Immortality and Life long before   
your father became King of the Gods - we have an agreement, he and I. When he battled Father for  
control of Olympus, I stayed out of it and didn't interfere on father's behalf. Now, my darling   
baby brother must respect my freedom and sovereignty to do as I wish with mortals and Immortals   
alike. Whether he likes what I do or not, he has no choice but to stay out of it. He won't do   
anything nephew, he wouldn't dare."   
  
"He's changed his mind before." Ares argued somewhat petulantly.   
  
"Now when it comes to me." Losira smiled and shrugged. "Not only do we have a deal, he and I,   
but he likes me better. I'm his favourite sister." With that, she ended the argument by   
disappearing.   
  
"It's still not fair." Ares groused before disappearing as well.   
  
No sooner had the two gods vanished than Xena and Gabrielle were sitting up and looking at each   
other in confusion.   
  
  
  
Present Day   
Paris, France   
Methos's apartment.   
  
"So you made them Immortal and just like that Ares had no choice but accept it?" Methos looked  
skeptical which brought laughter from Losira.   
  
"Well no, he did go whining to Zeus but, as I said, Zeus sided with me. Ares did keep pestering   
Xena and Gabrielle but it was never anything Xena couldn' t handle and without my approval or   
help, he couldn't reverse their Immortality." The goddess shrugged with a casual acceptance. "I   
don't really get involved most of the time unless it's Game-related."   
  
"And all that's recorded in the scroll?"   
  
"Mmhmmm...Ares's little temper tantrum woke the two of them up and they got to see the whole   
show. I should have gone back to check on them, if I had I would have found the scroll and   
averted the whole mess but..." Waving a hand, the goddess dismissed the idea. "Nevermind   
that - just get me the scroll." Thus said, she left in a particularly spectacular burst of   
light.   
  
"That woman can be such a pain in the ass." Methos decided with an annoyed look on his face.   
  
  
The next day   
Methos's Apartment   
  
Finding the scroll proved to be the easy part - it had gotten mixed up with a shipment from a   
Watcher find in Egypt and Methos had to search through three large crates before he found it.   
Getting the damn thing *out* of Watcher HQ without discovery proved to be harder than expected.  
  
"I've never been so bloody popular in my entire life!" The ancient grumbled as he walked into   
his apartment and slammed the door.   
  
"Problems?" Losira's sultry voice reached his ears and Methos looked over to see one corner of   
his home transformed into the ancient Greek version of a bathing pool - complete with attendants  
seeing to their goddess's every whim.   
  
The goddess definitely had good taste in servants, Methos noted with an appreciative eye on the  
scantily clad woman working on the Goddess's manicure.   
  
"I'd suggest you make yourself at home," he sniped out. "but apparently you already have."   
With a snap of Losira's fingers, the attendants vanished leaving the Immortal alone with his goddess. "Well, I got bored waiting for you and since Aphrodite *swears* by these long soaks, I thought I'd try one - I could stand to lose a few centuries. By the way, is that Highlander friend of yours available? Aphrodite could do with a little playtoy."   
"Don't you mean playboy?" Methos corrected tiredly.   
"For Aphrodite it's the same thing." Reclining back against the stone wall of the pool, the goddess surveyed him speculatively. "So?"   
"What?" he asked as he tossed aside his coat.   
"Did you get it?"   
"Yes I got it." Methos removed the scroll from his coat's inner pocket and held it up. "But it wasn't easy...you owe me."   
"Poor baby." Losira empathized and with another snap of her fingers, which was purely for effect Methos knew, the Immortal found himself in the tub with her - quite naked, scroll in hand. "Relax and tell me all about it."   
Jumping slightly when the attendant, who'd apparently been returned, who he'd been admiring began to massage away some of the tension in his shoulders.Feeling it slowly draining from him, Methos handed over the scroll before speaking.   
"Well, once I found the bloody thing I had to get out of the building with it."   
  
  
Watcher Headquarters   
France   
Earlier that day...   
  
With Gabrielle's scroll safely tucked away in the *inner* pocket of his coat, Methos began   
packing up his supplies in preparation for leaving the library. The faster he got out of   
headquarters the faster he could hand the scroll over to Losira and send her on her merry little   
way back to Olympus or Disneyland or wherever it was Greek goddesses were hanging out these days.  
  
"Adam?" A perky voice reached his ears and the Immortal groaned inwardly.   
  
Not now - not anytime actually, but *especially* not now.   
  
Forcing a polite smile to his face, Methos turned to great the other Watcher. "Abigail, its been   
a while." 'Not bloody long enough' he tacked on mentally with great annoyance and long suffering.  
  
Abigail Cronkite, not to be confused with a relation of Walter, was the head librarian and was   
absolutely convinced she was indispensable while at the same time adamant that the librarians   
who worked beneath her were all vitally important to the library - when in her mind all they   
were important to was making sure Abigail felt like the most important, no to mention desirable,  
woman in the entire Watcher Organization. Basically make her feel like what she thought she  
already was.   
  
She actually reminded Methos of a pale version of Cassandra. If, that is, Cassandra were in her  
forties with a few too many pounds in a few too many places, and had hair that looked like it   
had been attacked by a hairdresser from Melrose Place just coming off a three day bender.   
  
Mentally, he made a note to find out if Losira was in the habit of dispatching annoying people   
to meet her brother Hades. If so, he was tempted to find out if Abigail qualified for such a   
trip.   
  
"Too long!" Abigail said with a wide, flirtatious (at least she thought flirtatious, he thought  
offensive), smile before glancing at his bag, her garishly painted mouth making a small moue of  
disappointment. "Leaving so soon?"   
  
'Not bloody soon enough.'   
  
"I have some work to finish at home." Shoving the last few books into the leather case, the   
Immortal Watcher flipped the lid shut and shouldered the strap. "You know how it is - always   
chasing leads, feeling like Methos is always just a few steps away.   
  
The frumpy, and fake, brunette, sighed appreciatively, doe-eyes fixed on his face. "Nothing you  
need here?" Her chest moved out in an, apparently, unconscious signal for attention.   
  
A signal Methos steadfastly ignored as he thought, 'I wish she'd put those away before she   
poke's somebody's eyes out, particularly mine since she keeps shoving them that way.' Aloud he  
chose to diplomatically say, "No, I have everything I need."   
  
"Yo! Abi! A little help here if you don't mind?!" Chyna Green, Abigail's half-sister, yelled out  
from the doorway where she tottered unsteadily on her high heels while juggling two large boxes  
in her arms.   
  
Ah Chyna - Ally McBeal had Elaine, the Watchers got stuck with Chyna. Her even more trampy clone.  
  
Slipping past Abigail, Methos beat a hasty exit barely muttering so much as an "Excuse me." as   
he passed Chyna while nearly choking on the haze of perfume that surrounded her at all times.   
  
Coughing as he rounded the corner, Methos found himself fervently hoping the Fates were with   
him and he'd make it out of the building before running into anyone else.   
  
Methos's Apartment   
Present Time   
  
Laughing, Losira tapped the scroll against his forehead. "You poor thing! Want me to make sure   
they both get transferred out of France? Y'know it'd be easy for me to do. A little whisper in   
the ear here, a little suggestion in a dream there, and poof, they're gone."   
  
"Don't suppose you'd feel inclined to make a few personality adjustments? Just a few." Methos  
sighed out as the attendants worked their magic on his shoulders.   
  
"Maybe..." The goddess surmised with an amused glint in her eyes. "We'll see what I can do."   
  
They fell silent then - savouring the sensations of the luxurious bath and the attendants   
pampering until, finally, Methos fell asleep.   
  
When he awoke, he was in bed, it was the middle of the night and there was no sign of Losira   
anywhere or any hint that the goddess had ever been there. Until, that is, he looked over at the   
pillow next to his head on which sat a six-pack of beer and a note.   
  
Rubbing an eye sleepily, he leaned over to turn on a light before sitting up to read the note.   
  
Typically Losira, it consisted of "Thanks a bunch for the scroll - the Boss."   
  
Snorting at that, he set the six-pack on the floor for later enjoyment then turned off the   
light and rolled over.   
  
Sometimes he thought his life was strange then something would happen - something like Losira   
showing up, and it would remind him that his life wasn 't strange at all. It was bloody bizarre.  
  
'Ah, well,' he thought sleepily as he began to drift off into unconsciousness. 'At least I'm not  
bored.'   
  
Which was true. Boring, thankfully, was one thing his life would never - could never be.   
Especially not with a goddess hanging around waiting to complicate matters.   
  
Nope...boring...not a chance.   
  
Though a little peace and quiet would be nice...   
  
finis 


End file.
